


Alone

by later_than_the_rabbit



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Gen, Murder, Nightmares, Of a sorts, PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 17:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11362317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/later_than_the_rabbit/pseuds/later_than_the_rabbit
Summary: The building was destroyed by the bomb as easily as a child might break a plastic tower; bricks the colour of ash and hopelessness were strewn across the area in chaos; blood stained the pavement underneath Steve’s feet and the scene was cast into shadow as black smoke rolled into the sky, the morbidity of the surroundings enhanced sharply, pulling at the tendrils of Steve’s racing heart.





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first post to the archive. I honestly have no idea how this works but I'm learning. Anyways here it is.

How could his world turn so wrong, so fast? The mission was a success, he and the Commandos had just returned to New York that evening. Whereas Bucky and the others left straight to the Shield Headquarters, Steve had stopped at a closing florist to hopes of buying Peggy a bouquet of roses to accompany his proposition for a night of dancing (courtesy of Bucky’s threatening to ask her for him). It was here his world changed. The ground shook beneath his feet as the arrangements fell around him, scattering colourful petals across the floor as they would at a wedding. Except it wasn’t bells Steve could hear, but the ringing in his ears from an explosion a few blocks away, the diminishing roar of low-flying planes overhead and the wails of sirens and screams in the distance.  
Steve came out and stood on the pavement. He saw the source for the turmoil that plagued the once peaceful street; a single, targeted building a couple of blocks away, in ruins after a devastating bombing. A single building, where moments before, his best friend and his comrades had just disappeared into. A building where the girl he loved was now under. Running towards the destruction, Steve barely saw the horror shining in women’s and children’s tears as they ran and the protectiveness and concern in the men’s that he passed. Steve’s worry only grew as he neared the annihilation.  
The building was destroyed by the bomb as easily as a child might break a plastic tower; bricks the colour of ash and hopelessness were strewn across the area in chaos; blood stained the pavement underneath Steve’s feet and the scene was cast into shadow as black smoke rolled into the sky, the morbidity of the surroundings enhanced sharply, pulling at the tendrils of Steve’s racing heart. People screamed and cried in agony as they fled the carnage or grieved for those taken with the blast; a symphony of horror created to accompany the pervading dread that began to fill Steve’s body as he entered the decimation of the headquarters facade.  
The smoke that billowed from the remaining fires inside instantly filled Steve’s lungs and burned his insides, choking off the few words he would have wanted to utter, to scream, to that anyone could hear him. Peggy! Bucky! Anyone! The inside of the store was a mirror of the mayhem outside; the charred, bloody bodies of those unfortunate enough to have been inside the store lay around him and the destroyed furnishings inside created a blanket of debris whose screeching sound with each step echoed in the room. Blood soaked crystal and burning splinters crunched underfoot as he made his way past the cashier’s stand, or what was left of it. He made his way towards the bookcase with the elevator, She’ll be safe down there. I’ll find her there, with the others. 

The lights flickered eerily on his way down to SHIELD Headquarters, casting ominous shadows across the cool, steel railing and blank panels. The music that once filled the silence of the small space was absent now, replaced with only his laboured breathing and the pounding of his heart in his ears. Steve faintly heard the crashing of more bricks from the building above him but he was too far past caring for his own safety; all that mattered was that he saw them again and that they were there, safe.  
As the elevator slowed Steve’s stomach rolled and his worry manifested itself into a deep, horrible feeling in his gut. The scene before him when the doors parted only made this feeling grow from worry into dread.  
“Ah so I see you’ve joined us Captain America.” No no! NO! It couldn’t be him! “Pity you didn’t join your friends in here with us. They did put up a fight. I would even venture to say they became difficult momentarily. But alas, your Commandos and precious SHIELD are no match for the power HYDRA when their Captain is elsewhere, are they?” Gesturing to the floor below them beyond the railing, Schmidt stepped aside as Steve approached, to only be met by the sight of his nightmares.  
Blood covered the entirety of the floor. It engulfed his senses; his sight, smell and even taste as the metallic essence of SHIELD stained the room and the sight became lodged in his mind. And there, in the centre, lay Peggy, Bucky, the Commandos and even Howard, dead. Their bodies motionless as their blood dried and darkened on their skin and clothing, their eyes dull and faces morphed into those of complete hopelessness and defeat. Steve, sickened at the scene, screwed his eyes and turned his head to shield himself from the massacre yet the figurative screams of the people below echoed in his head and the image of Peggy, of Bucky, dead at his feet, stayed imprinted on the back of his eyelids. Tears streamed hot and heavy down his face.  
“This could have all been prevented you know.” Schmidt said with an air of nonchalance.  
“How?” Steve turned towards his enemy, towards the one who has taken everything he cared for away from him, rage coursing through his veins. “HOW?”  
“I’ve already said how.” Schmidt stepped purposefully towards Steve and the railing, murderously, “If you were here Captain, you could have fought alongside your comrades and possibly defeated us, or died with them. Instead, you stayed away for your own personal errand and let them all perish. Evidently, their blood is on your hands.”  
“No! You murderer!” Steve’s rage plagued his voice, it becoming harsh, reverberating off the walls of the bunker and into the devil himself. He lunged towards Schmidt and seized his throat, tackling him to the ground in the process. Schmidt made no attempt to escape the death grip around his throat, to escape his imminent death. Instead, he spoke faintly to Steve, an insane glint in his eye’s as his life faded.  
“I… am no… murderer.” He manages, “I did not… kill... anyone here this evening. The only killer here...is you… and you… alone!” Schmidt falls limp in Steve’s hands as the sheen his eyes disappears. Steve pries his fingers from the man’s neck, the reality settling into his body as he stands and makes his way down the stairs, into the centre of the floor below. If he had just gone with Bucky, he could still be here. Peggy could still be here. He kneels in the blood of his friends. Of his family. I could have saved everyone. I could have saved you. He thinks as he holds the cold body of his love in his arms. I could have saved you! His face contorts into a grimace as the burning tears return and his body shakes with grief. Distantly, he can hear the cries of a heartbroken man pierce his throat. Why didn’t I save you?

Steve wakes with a start, jolting upright with icy tears tracking down his face and his throat hoarse from his screams. Another. Hands brush up and down his hot and cold face as his shallow, irregular breaths gradually return to a steady rhythm. It was just another nightmare. He lies back down onto the sweat-soaked sheets and stares at the ceiling. It wasn’t real. He thinks to himself. I didn’t fail them. We won the war. He follows routine and closes his eyes as he tries to forget the images of the closest people in his life, dead and bloodied on the floor. I’m still alone. He cries silently into the darkness of the night. I’m still alone.


End file.
